


Fingerprints

by ella_minnow



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-27
Updated: 2012-05-27
Packaged: 2017-11-06 02:28:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ella_minnow/pseuds/ella_minnow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It shouldn't be this hard. He shouldn't be this scared.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fingerprints

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [ lmno @ livejournal](http://ella-minnow.livejournal.com/1003.html#cutid1) on 03/02/2003. Thank you to mcee and graycastle for betaing.

Billy woke up to the feel of a warm hand spread possessively over his ribs and the sound of gentle snoring against the back of his neck. His legs were tangled with heavy limbs, all sleek muscles and angular knees. The solid, palpable presence of another body in his bed made Billy's skin tingle, but the sensation wasn't an entirely pleasant one.

There was no morning amnesia, no slow awakening to remembrance as he eased from sleep. Billy knew who was spooned against his back.

*

The shower was too hot. Dom stood, teeth gritted and fists clenched, as the water painted his skin red, waiting for the shock of the water's temperature to wear off. He winced only once, when the spray hit a previously undiscovered track of fingernail marks scored into his hip, sending a shock of pain shooting along his nerve endings.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he turned his face into the spray, letting the sound and feel of water running down his face drive all thoughts from his head.

*

Billy paused, bare toes curling into the cool tile of the kitchen floor, when he heard the shower turn off in the bathroom. The low gurgle of the coffee maker didn't quite drown out the sound of the shower door opening and closing or the muffled whispers of motion that followed.

He was drying off. He would be getting dressed and coming out soon.

With a one last gurgle and sputter, the coffee finished brewing. The sound startled Billy, knocking him out of his desperate stillness. He put the coffee cups he'd just taken out of the cupboard down on the counter, next to the coffee pot, then moved to get the rest of breakfast organised.

*

Dom had a drawer in Billy's dresser. It had never struck him as odd before. He fell asleep on Billy's couch often enough that it only made sense for him to keep a few pairs of underwear and a toothbrush tucked away somewhere.

Standing in front of that drawer, though, clutching at the towel wrapped around his waist and staring at the underwear and socks and t-shirts in his drawer, Dom had to wonder if maybe it wasn't a bit strange after all.

*

The smell of toast and coffee had permeated the kitchen by the time Billy heard the drawer slide close in his bedroom. He'd toasted half of a loaf of bread and a teetering pile of slices was slowly cooling on a plate on the table, surrounded by Billy's hodgepodge collection of jams and spreads.

A moment later, the sound of footsteps coming down the hall reached Billy's ears.

Billy froze where he stood, his arms hanging loose from the shoulders, hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching against his thighs. He was fighting the urge to turn heel and run, to just burst out into the street in his flannel pyjama bottoms and bare feet and go until he ran out of breath and just collapsed, safely away from everything.

*

Dom paused just outside the door to the kitchen, taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders. When he went to step forward again, however, his body refused to move. He stood there, motionless in the hallway, for one heartbeat, two. Absently, he ran the fingertips of his right hand over the outside seam of his jeans, the nubby feel of denim and heavy stitching oddly reassuring.

It shouldn't be this hard. He shouldn't be this scared.

*

Billy stood by the edge of the table, brushing the fingers of one hand restlessly over the handle of a butter knife. He started to reach for a piece of toast but cut the movement short. He looked at his rapidly cooling cup of coffee, sitting on the counter next to the toaster. He thought about going to get it, maybe dumping it out and pouring himself a fresh cup from the mostly full pot. Instead, he stood, not moving, listening to Dom not move in the hall.

It shouldn't be this hard. He shouldn't be this scared.

End.


End file.
